amaranthine
by windthorne
Summary: both of them have nowhere to go. all they have now is each other. / rivamika runaway au (also known as the stars au).
1. prequel

a/n: this prequel was written for a prompt, while the next 2 ch's were written for rm week 3.

enjoy :)

disclaimer: i do not own snk

* * *

**9:32 PM**  
**New York City, NY**

She stared up at the airport schedule board, wringing her wrists anxiously as she searched for her destination.

_9:01 LOS ANGELES AA5778 A12 - DELAYED_

As she took in the words scanned across the table, her eyes widened, annoyance and moreover frustration growing. She clutched her only carry-on luggage with fervor, grunting as she quickly trudged away towards her departure gate.

This couldn't be happening. Not tonight. _Especially_ not tonight.

Not when she was trying to run away.

The night was relatively young, but unfortunately Mikasa was going to have to spend it alone in an airport, with her dying cellphone and a luggage filled with only half her clothes.

She wasn't supposed to be here anymore. She was supposed to be on a plane to LA by now. She was supposed to be in the air, far away from the city already. She was supposed to be _free,_ be able to breathe for once.

She was supposed to be finally getting away from all the trouble here.

But she just _had_ to be stuck in the city for just a bit longer—as if to make her contemplate on her decision once more, to urge her to stay.

But she couldn't stay anymore. She needed to leave.

And that wouldn't be happening if her flight kept getting delayed.

Soon enough, her brother and friends would come after her, search in the airport without a care in the world except to just get her home.

She refused to go back home.

Mikasa arrived at her gate, reluctantly sitting on a barren seat far away from the entrance and the people who had been delayed with her. The only person in her vicinity was two seats away—a man who donned a cravat and glasses, intensely immersed in a novel.

* * *

**9:59 PM**

"Are you…" Mikasa gulped just as the "cravat man" looked up at her. _Blue, blue eyes_. "Are you on the delayed flight? To L.A.?"

The man gave her a fruitless look, raising a brow. "Yes."

She licked her lips. "Oh, ah, okay."

He continued to stare at her, pushing his glasses up to his nose. "You need something?"

She shook her head quickly. "No, no, just… wondering."

"Bored?" He shuffled through the open pocket on his carry-on, pulling out—surprisingly—a pack of cigarettes.

Her eyes widened. "Um…"

The cravat man looked back at what he held, and flinched. "Oops, wrong thing," He quickly threw the pack back into his bag, and pulled out another item—a book. "This is what I meant."

Mikasa blinked, then shook her head again. "I'm… fine." Her eyes lingered on the carry-on of his, wondering what were the contents inside.

She was alone in an airport, bored as hell, and was sitting next to an expressionless man. What more could she be expecting?

* * *

**10:18 PM**

The panoramic window beside her gate showcased all the flights that left and came, airplanes soaring past and landing down. It was a pleasant sight to see despite being cooped up here.

But like always, there were still clouds outside, and with those clouds came no sight of the stars.

As usual.

Mikasa heard a grunt next to her, and she turned to see the cravat man again, frowning at his watch.

"I just wanna fucking leave." He murmured not-so-quietly, before glancing up at her.

She almost jumped at his sudden stare, but kept her mouth shut just-so, watching as he removed his glasses and set it aside.

"You need anything, again?" He pushed raven strands out of his face, tilting his head at her.

_Why was he always asking that?_ "No," she pursed her lips. "Again."

"Quit looking at me, then," He frowned at her before quickly leaning back in his seat and closing his eyes.

_Well then._

_Already going to sleep…?_

She scowled back at him, even though he didn't see it.

* * *

**10:35 PM**

Mikasa ignored her phone, not wanting to check her unread messages (that were probably yelling at her to go home). She fiddled with her hair, her scarf, her fingers.

The offer to read the book of the cravat man was starting to become more interesting than she had hoped.

She waited a few more minutes, before gradually approaching the man, who seemed to be napping.

Mikasa slid into the seat next to him quietly, trying at all costs to avoid waking him, before slowly making her way to the open pocket.

And yet, a hand flew out to grasp her wrist.

"What do you think you're doing?" His slightly raspy voice was deeper now, but not any less scary.

She snatched her wrist away from his (hard yet protective) grip. "Borrowing your book."

"Right now?" He crossed his arms, unamused.

She nodded. "I'm bored."

"Tch." He fumbled through the pocket before throwing the book at her face, which she nearly missed catching. "Have fun."

She wanted to glare, but he had already closed his eyes again.

* * *

**10:50 PM**

"You're not asleep."

"You're not reading."

"Closing your eyes does not mean sleeping."

"Opening a book does not mean reading."

"… I have nothing else to do."

"Neither do I."

"…"

"…What's your name?"

"Mikasa."

"…I'm Levi."

* * *

**11:06 PM**

She felt a sudden desire to shower, despite it being so late already.

But no one was probably in there at the moment, and she had nothing better to do. His books were boring, and she wanted to get out of the cravat man—no, _Levi's_—sight.

Something was tugging at her, but she didn't understand what.

"I'm going to go shower," She poked Levi's shoulder, already knowing he was awake. "Will you please watch my luggage?"

He cracked an eye open with a glare, catching her finger with his.

"Please?" She asked again, slowly slipping her finger away, before pointing at her half open carry-on.

He simply nodded without a pause.

She walked off, and blatantly ignored the way her back burned as he gazed after her.

* * *

**12:11 AM**

"You took quite a while." Levi muttered as she sat beside him, wet hair and fresh clothes hastily thrown on.

"You're still awake." She retorted as she stuffed all her remnants back inside her luggage, while also simultaneously searching through it to see if he had done anything. Thankfully, everything was left as it was.

Mikasa earned a "tch" in response as she sat comfortably into her seat, glancing at the window next to them. The moon was vaguely hidden behind one of the clouds.

"Our next flight isn't until tomorrow morning," He had his glasses on again, nitpicking through a book. "You should go to sleep."

When had they started talking to each other normally, she had no idea. She decided to ignore the part about the flight, and focused on the latter. "I'm not tired."

Levi sighed. "Well, then that makes two of us."

A moment later, he grabbed her wrist _again_, tugging her towards him. She gasped, about to pull away and probably slap him, when something fell in her open hand.

He let go after, picking up his book, all in one swift motion.

She scrunched her brows in confusion, appalled by his sudden action, before looking at what sat in her palm.

It was a lighter, polished silver, covered with an emblem of a shield with blue and white wings. It was unusually warm, probably from having been in his pocket the whole time. She held it up to her eyes, examining the marking of it, entranced.

"I'm not giving it to you as a present or anything," His voice startled her. "I just… need somebody to hold it for me."

She raised a brow. "What do you mean?"

"The lighter…" He pushed his glasses back. "I just… just hold it for me. For now."

"Why?"

He sighed, setting his book down. "I'm currently fighting the urge to take one of these out." He gestured towards the open pocket of his luggage, notably the item that was sticking out.

His cigarettes.

_Oh. That made sense._

"You're not aloud to smoke here." She whispered.

"No shit," He managed to close her hand and push it away from his. "I don't care."

"Then… why are you giving this to me?"

Levi peered up at her, and she swore she had never seen eyes as intense as his.

"So that you can stop me."

* * *

**2:34 AM**

The airport was so quiet, so serene. The only lights kept lit shined a few feet away from her seat— and yet it was still quite dark.

"I'm trying to run away."

Her words were whispered, and yet they seemed so deafening in the gate they were sitting in, _still _sitting in.

He was retying his cravat, which had loosened in the past few hours, when he suddenly stopped, letting her words sink in.

"Why?" He asked, taken aback.

She picked at her scarf. "I need to get away from here."

Mikasa didn't know why she felt so compelled to tell a stranger this right now, but it was currently two in the morning and she was so _bored_ and _tired_. And all her secrets seemed to spill out at this time, even when she couldn't help it.

"New York City isn't for me," She admitted it with a lump in her throat, "I don't belong here. Or anywhere."

The look he was giving her was so masklike that she didn't have a clue what he was thinking.

"So… you just packed up and left?"

She nodded slowly, raising the scarf to cover her quivering lips.

"I left my brother and my best friends," she explained, "Just left them. Didn't even tell them why."

Mikasa expected this man to berate her for doing such a thing. _You're so young, you don't know what the hell you're doing—_

"I'm running away, too."

He said it so nonchalantly that at first she didn't believe it.

"What?"

Levi eyed her, licking his lips. "I'm doing what you're doing. Running away."

She gave him a baffled look. _You would think he was going on a business trip or something, the way he was dressed…_

"Why?" She was curious now.

He shrugged, intent on not revealing everything. "Same as you," he said, "I want to get away."

She tilted her head. "Do you have family here? Or friends—"

"No," he interrupted her quickly. "Nobody."

He was lying, she knew that. But it was two in the morning, and she was too tired to push anything out of this still-stranger.

She knew his name, but not much else.

Just that he was trying to get away from this life just as much as she was.

* * *

**5:19 AM**

Mikasa woke up to someone rustling next to her, nudging her in the arm repeatedly.

She groaned as she opened her eyes, blinking as the light hit her unexpectedly.

"Mikasa," Levi's voice murmured as he poked her again. "Somebody is calling you."

He held up her phone to her eyes, and she almost glared at the contact name.

Eren.

She grabbed the phone and hit ignore, before looking through her messages. She scrolled through each one, intent on deleting them all, when one of them caught her eye.

_Armin looked through your web hist._

_You bought a ticket to LA? What the hell?_

_We're coming to get you. Now._

The text was sent at 5:00, which meant…

Mikasa scrambled to grab all her belongings, wrapping her scarf around her once more, before standing.

Levi sat up, watching her like a hawk. "Where are you going now?"

"I have to leave." She mumbled hastily, stuffing her phone in her pocket.

"Why?" he asked.

She huffed. "They're coming. Right now. To pick me up."

"Who is?"

"_They are!_"

She was just about to leave when somebody grabbed her wrist—and dare she say, _again_.

"You're going to just get up and go?" He narrowed his eyes.

"I'll—I'll get a taxi. Drive out of the city. Something." She tried to rip his hand away.

"You don't have enough money."

"You don't know that."

"Doesn't matter," He tugged her back. "You can't just go."

"Why not?" she held back the urge to scream. _The nerve of this man!_

"Because you have my lighter."

* * *

**5:22 AM**

Mikasa watched as Levi slowly gathered all his things, making sure to stuff his cigarettes adequately. She didn't stop him, only stood there, thinking why the hell this was happening.

She wondered why she was letting him do this, why she was about to leave with a stranger, a man she knew absolutely nothing about—

Except that he was in the same position as she was in.

"Come with me." He ordered.

And she did.

* * *

**5:32 AM**

She didn't even question him because she somehow knew he wouldn't answer—_why are you coming with me? Why do you want to go? Didn't you pay for a ticket?…_

They made their way to the exit, ducking their heads as they headed towards the taxi's.

"I'll pay for this one," he said to her as he threw their two luggage into the trunk. "You owe me the next time."

"How do you know there will be a next time?"

Levi stared at her. "You have nowhere to go. I don't either." He opened the door and they both slid inside the taxi with ease. "There will be a next time."

She pulled the lighter out of her pocket and held it out to him. But he shook his head, and closed his hand over hers.

"I told you to hold on to it."

* * *

**5:39 AM**

As the sun rose above the skyscrapers of the city, she noted how beautiful the sunrise was, pooling the skies with dusty orange that hid behind gray clouds. The sun was the only light for now, deserted and by itself.

Alone. Just like her.

Her vision was interrupted by blue eyes and raven hair.

And Mikasa quickly changed her mind.

No. She wasn't alone.

Not anymore.

* * *

a/n: let me know what you think!


	2. 6 months

(this and the next ch can also be found in my other fic, **reflections**)

a/n: all i can say is this probably takes place in texas. idk why, tbh. also, there are only so many synonyms for the word "glare." it's unbelievable.

basically, **this story is a set of one-shots**. the time frame varies between each chapter. for this one, i'll say it's been about half a year since the prequel. i wrote this long before i wrote the prequel, so i understand that it's a big jump. one day, i might write a fic about their times in between.

okay, enough of me. enjoy :)

disclaimer: i do not own snk

* * *

Maybe Mikasa should have thought this out more thoroughly. Maybe she should have planned this in a more proficient and practical way, like she was back then-unlike now, when everything they did was spontaneous and unmistakably impromptu.

Maybe she should just quit living in this façade she's grown into in the past few months since she left the city.

Maybe she should just go back home…

Not even a second after the idea pops up in her head, does it quickly dissipate into a distant nothing. She refuses to give any more thought into it.

Mikasa shifts in her car seat to gaze at the desolate road before her, an entirely opposite landscape of the one she used to be so familiar with-enormous billboard signs and crowded buildings, all an obscure memory in itself. New York City was a beautiful place indeed.

But it just wasn't for her.

She rolls down the window to stick her hand out, heedlessly fluttering her fingers across the gust of wind, before glancing at the male driver next to her.

Levi is just as uptight as her when it came to important matters, but lately he's been loosening up in terms of comfort and amenity. He drives their old (and stolen) car with one hand placed on the wheel, while the other drums its fingers along the plastic arm rest, just a few inches from where her own hand rests. His pristine white sleeves are rolled up past his elbows due to the heat—not even the air conditioning could save them from this unbearable hotness—and his usually fixed cravat is hanging loosely around his thick neck.

Unconsciously, she observes his exposed forearms, and the veins that pop every time any movements is made—turning the wheel, drumming his fingers, pressing the handle.

She's entranced by the little motions, not noticing how obvious she is until she hears him snort.

"What are you looking at?" He asks nonchalantly, breaking her trance.

She glances up to meet his azure eyes, stupefied, and sees his half-smirk appearing, a rare image to see indeed. Her cheeks immediately redden, and she curses herself inwardly. "Nothing." She replies hesitantly.

"Take a picture," He suggests after a moment. "It lasts longer."

His response is earned with a glare, and she promptly fumes in her seat, turning away from his intense eyes.

Mikasa sighs in the midst of their ongoing journey, restless but not fatigued at all. They had been driving for hours, and had yet to come across a decent place to eat dinner at. Of course, this was the usual for them almost every other night, and with the kind of money they had right now, it was almost impossible to find a place cheap enough to afford.

Nonetheless, Mikasa sticks her hand back inside the car, rolling the window in one fluid motion. She pulls out the cash from both their wallets and examines the quantity, just in case they would spot anything. After counting it, she stuffs it in the cupholder quietly to show Levi the amount at hand.

He simply glimpses at the meager total, not uttering a word at all, before his eyes look back onto the devoid road.

She notes the way his brows scrunch towards the road, and how his lips move inaudibly. She infers that he's probably adding up the cash in his head to see how many packs of cigs he couldn't afford.

Such a shame.

Mikasa eyes drift to the companion's side, waiting for him to acknowledge her. Once he turns towards her, she simply leans her head back against the headrest, indicating that she was going to nap. Levi merely nods, letting her be. She closes her eyes after his approval, falling into her own cluttered thoughts.

She dreams of blurry visions of city lights and blaring taxi horns, impatient footsteps and the smell of brewed coffee.

An hour later, she awakes to a nudge on her shoulder.

"Mikasa," a deep voice murmurs. "I think I found a place."

She opens her eyes to the night sky and flashing neon lights, a sudden flash of her dream, but not exactly so. She looks around, noting Levi's calm eyes on her, and sees the beat down complex that they're parked at. Mikasa's brows furrow.

"A bar?" she asks him. "Do we even have money to afford alco-"

"No," he interrupts. "We don't. And it's not only a bar." He points at the sign behind them, where she hadn't looked. "It's also a diner."

She scowls at him as she turns to see the luminous pink lights reading "Betsy's." It was similar to the diners of the 50's, a simplistic style that had a peppy aura surrounding it.

Mikasa bends over to see the restaurant under the cover of the car. It was an antiquated place, however there were many people spread around the small area, like it was the usual social gathering spot in the town they were in.

"There's also a hotel right down the street," Levi adds, retying his cravat into place. "We can stay there for the night, or for however long we need to."

She nods to this, and simply readjusts the scarf that was hanging loosely around her neck (due to the heat, of course). Before she can wrap it around and secure it, a hand grabs her wrist stiffly.

"God, Mikasa," Levi exclaims. "What in the world are you doing?"

She raises a brow. "Putting my scarf back on?"

He shakes his head. "Do you not understand that it's hotter than the depths of hell outside right now?"

She scoffs, rolling her eyes. "It's never too hot for me."

"You're gonna fucking die of heat stroke with that damned scarf of yours."

"It's _night time_, Levi," She glares. "It's not even that hot!"

"Doesn't matter," He proclaims. "Don't wear that filthy scarf—at least not right now."

Another frown. "Fine," She says. "But then you have to take off that stupid cravat."

This time, Levi scowls, but doesn't argue, instead undoing the said accessory and setting it down on the arm rest beside him. Mikasa obnoxiously whips the scarf from around her neck and places it atop the cravat, all while staring daggers at her partner.

Levi's eyes immediately dart down to her exposed neck, an unfathomable expression forming. She pretends she doesn't notice.

"And you can't bring your gun, either." She adds, her eyes flashing down towards the distinct form of a weapon hidden right under his button-up.

Again, he doesn't fight her, properly lifting up his shirt to remove the gun tucked into his slacks. He stretches over the armrest, opening the glove compartment, and shoves the handgun inside without complaint.

Before she can berate him for another detail, he swiftly turns and opens his car door, exiting out without warning. To this, Mikasa sighs, getting out of the car as well and following him inside the diner.

As they enter the restaurant, all eyes immediately set on them, the locals already labeling them as outsiders, just passing by the town.

And it was logical for them to think that—they didn't look so prim and proper, what with the solemn and plain get up Levi wore, a long with the outdated outfit she donned. To others, they probably looked poor and in need of sleep—which was exactly what they were.

Not that she minded that much.

Without thinking, Levi makes a grab for her wrist, keeping distance of her hand, and pulls her closer towards him, away from the drunk and leering men by the bar. The sudden motion jolts a sensation in Mikasa, but she dutifully evades the feeling, going a long with his intentions.

They're seated in a corner towards the back of the place, and it gives them some peace from the chaos ensuing near the front, where the drunkards were seated, watching some game that was cast across three set TV's.

At certain moments, she sees Levi's eyes dart up towards the screen to view the event himself, and she takes these brief periods to stare at him without hide.

"Quit looking at me." He quietly orders after several minutes.

Mikasa rolls her eyes. "Stop being so apprehensive." She counters.

He just grunts in response. "You're making me feel hot and bothered." He admits. "It's making me want a lighter."

"Not today," She quickly states, her left hand instantly feeling up his right leg. She was always wary of his abilities to find the pack of cigarettes she tried to hide.

"Relax," He replies, placing his hand over hers. "I left it in the car, too."

She doesn't believe him and checks his other pocket.

"Don't believe me?" He asks. "Do you want me to strip down or something?"

"I do believe you, Levi," She explains. "I just don't believe you when it comes to those cigs."

A snort. "I know." He replies, taking a sip of the iceless water he had ordered, likewise her. "You should stop trying to hide those from me. I always find them eventually."

She scowls. "They're disgusting."

"Tch, to you," He says, leaning back against the padded booth. "God, ever since you left Eren, you've taken to babying me now."

Mikasa ignores this and stares forward.

"You don't need to baby me." He adds after a second. "But you already know that."

Again, she refuses to listen to him, for he's brought up Eren again, one of the many people she left behind in NYC, a long with the other struggles and problems that came with that place.

She still misses a few things from time to time, feeling homesick at certain moments in their cross country trip.

Like the distinct desire for coffee in the city, now replaced with the desire for water—after all, they were in the heart of the heat wave. Or the busy streets and signs of people everywhere—now, it was rare to see that many people in one area.

Levi watches her expressions change, and he knows she's reminiscing in her past life. He doesn't talk about it, simply squeezing her hand in silent reassurance.

They were never a couple to talk much, preferring their conversations to occur through their actions and their eyes, a quality not many people possessed nowadays. They observed the people bustling around the diner, the loud and harsh laughs of the drunks, the incoherent giggles of the ladies, the busy waiters making their way around in a rush.

When she notes a funny drinker reciting a ballad of an old song, she simply pats his hand to the beat, to which he replies with a plain "tch." When the team he roots for on TV scores, he makes it a point to lay his right hand on her thigh, gripping her whenever they got lucky, to which Mikasa replies with a pursed lips.

It wasn't that they were together—no, that certainly was not the case—it was just friendly gestures to them. Yes, they slept in the same bed at night to save money. Yes, they liked to stare at each other to annoy the other. Yes, they held each other's wrists, arms, thighs, hands, but not out of affection. Definitely not out of affection.

They were nothing more than friends who kept close to one another, a platonic relationship that didn't involve any amount of feeling.

At least, that's how she viewed it.

"Hey, little guy," A tall, blonde man with a long face made his way up to them suddenly, drawling out his words with his eyes set on her. "Might I borrow your girl for a second?"

A drunk. Of course.

Immediately, Levi grabs her wrist, but she breaks from his grasp gently. She gives him a look that says to _stay calm_.

Levi just grunts, turning away.

"She's not my girl." He replies with ease.

There is a slight tightening in her chest as she hears him utter those words, but she simply ignores it, choosing instead to nod in agreement.

"Oh," The tall man accepts, a subtle smile crossing his reddened face. "Cool, cool. Then pretty lady, may I dance with you tonight?" He asks politely, although drunk out of his mind.

Mikasa took pity on the poor man who had offered his hand out—he looked quite lonely despite his sass and confidence. His amber eyes glowed in the light, and it drew her in enough to accept.

She needs a little optimism in her life, anyway.

"Sure." She answers nonchalantly as she stands to grasp his hand. The man is shocked at first, but he quickly whisks her away with as much energy as a rabbit, pulling her flush against him in his state of weariness.

In the corner of her eye, she sees Levi glaring at them, rapping his fingers on the table before him, just like he always did.

"What's your name, pretty lady?" The man asks curiously with a cheeky grin.

She smiles, shaking her head. "I don't give my name out to strangers." She answers innocently.

It's okay, he wouldn't remember her in the morning anyway.

"Oh," His face falls. "That's okay, I guess." He sticks up a finger and jabs it into his chest with a cheery smile. "I'm Jean. Jean Kirschtein."

Mikasa nods back with more enthusiasm than she's ever given anyone—this man was just so… confident. At least, right now, when he's tipsy as hell.

"Your hair is very beautiful." He blurts out in the midst of them spinning across the floor, whereas he grabs her waist respectfully. "_You're_ beautiful, in fact. More beautiful than your hair." He scratches his head in confusion. "But your hair is on you, so it just makes you even more beautiful."

She hadn't understood a single word he had said. "Thank you." She replies with a smile, anyway.

Not many people compliment her like that, not in a sincere and genuine way. Not even…

The man—Jean—grins at her then. "Your smile is beautiful, too."

He was really straightforward as well. "Why thank yo-"

"She knows already," A voice behind her interrupts suddenly. "But thanks."

The pair whirls around in surprise, looking at the stocky man that stood too close. Levi's face was as impassive as ever, his lips pressed into a thin line.

"Levi?" Mikasa asks, brow raised.

"He's too stupid to function right now," He insists, grabbing her hand—her actual hand—and tugging her away from Jean. "He keeps stating the obvious."

"Excuse me!" The blonde shrieks in the background.

Despite the blush creeping in on her face, she rolls her eyes. "He's drunk and lonely. And he's a nice guy. Stop giving him shit."

"I will when he stops being so close to you like that." He replies, full on glaring at Jean over her shoulder.

"Levi." Her voice seems to do nothing to cease him from glowering at the man in question. "Levi."

"What's your problem, shortie?" Jean asks, his face twitching into a frown.

"Nothing of your likes, shitface." He responds casually. Mikasa squeezes his hand.

"Shut it," She whispers harshly into his ear. "You don't even know him."

"Stop pitying him," Levi orders, his brows furrowing. "You don't know him either."

"_Levi_," She emphasizes his name to get him to cooperate. "We can't go through this again…"

"I don't give two shits." He states, eyes emotionless.

Mikasa doesn't reply to this, letting go of his hand.

"You think you're so high and mighty, midget?" Jean yells over the crowd now, taunting the said man. "You don't insult me, the Jean Kirschtein, for nothing!"

"Levi," Mikasa tugs on his sleeve. "We should just go now."

"Not yet," He says, walking up to Jean hotly, a death glare up on his face.

"Just because you got a girl like her on your shoulder doesn't make you king of the world, now does it?" Jean rambles, his hands held up like a preacher. "Hell, she's probably too good for you, you son of a shi-"

He doesn't even finish his sentence, as a punch lands him right in the jaw, hitting him in one quick snap. A gust of blood winds from his mouth, and he falls effortlessly to the cold ground. The man immediately passes out from the shock, his body lying lifeless on the wooden floor.

Levi proceeds to kick the man helplessly, once, twice, then another. Mikasa pulls him back before he can do anymore damage—or before any other man could step in.

The whole diner was staring at them in silence, all the people settling their eyes on her—and the man in her hold.

Levi clutches his bloodstained hand with a careless gaze, staring at the man on the ground.

"You should just be glad I didn't bring in my gun."

* * *

"Why do you always have to hurt people in small towns like this?"

A scoff. "It's not my fault they're all annoying and bothersome."

"But you didn't have to hit the guy." Mikasa folds the familiar thin scarf in her lap as she speaks, setting it down on the bedside table. "He wasn't doing anything wrong."

"Yes, he was."

"_No_, he wasn't."

"Doesn't fucking matter. He was a problem. I dealt with him. It's done with."

They had managed to get out of the diner without trouble, truly only because everybody was too drunk to notice at that point in time. Regardless, they were now in their hotel room, resting from a long day. Somewhat.

Mikasa picks at the bed sheets under her.

"Just give me one decent reason why you keep doing this. Over and over."

"Easy." Levi doesn't even pause. "You."

"Me?" Mikasa furrows her brows. "How?"

He shrugs, looking up from his task to wrap up his bloodied hand. "You just do."

_Again with the blunt and stupid answers_. "Elaborate."

"What else do I have to say?" He asks, standing up from his side of the bed to flex out his right arm. "You're attractive. Men notice you. They pounce, and I strike."

Mikasa lets out a deep sigh, turning to face him from her side of the bed.

"But you don't have to hit them."

"No, I do."

"You don't."

"Trust me when I say that I really do," Levi sits back down, clutching his hand. "Have to hit them, that is."

She groans. "I don't need your protection."

"Doesn't mean I'll stop doing exactly that."

The green hotel walls seem to be caving in as his respond sinks in, drowning her. She shakes her head, continuing regardless.

"And I don't need your acts of jealousy as well."

He pauses in his wrappings. "Who said I was jealous?"

A scoff. "Please." She crosses her arms. "Don't deny it."

"I need my fucking cigarettes-"

"No, we're going to talk about this."

"Where's my fucking lighter-"

"_Levi_."

He glances at her, expressionless, searching for an explanation in her eyes.

She chuckles. "You're jealous."

"I am not." He turns away from her, avoiding her sharp gaze.

"You're making it obvious."

"I don't make anything obvious." Levi frowns. "I wasn't jealous. I'm never jealous."

"Whatever," Mikasa sighs. "Don't listen to me, like always. But just know," She slides over towards his side, reluctantly drawing closer to him. "I'm not going to leave you."

"Tch," He makes a face. "I know that already."

"I say that for reassurance," She says. "Just in case you needed a reminder." She makes a move to grab his injured hand, holding it up to her face. "I'm not going anywhere without you. It's just you. Only you. Nobody else."

Levi looks up to the window before them, silent.

A pause, and then: "Are you saying that you're mine now?"

She frowns. "No. Not at all."

"Technically, you did. Not in a literal way, but like a symbolic and figurative way."

She rolls her eyes. "Well, that's not what I mean."

"Bummer," Levi relieves his hand from hers, resting it on his thigh. "You shouldn't be, anyway."

A confused expression crosses her face. "Then why are you acting like that, then?"

"Why can't I act like this?" He turns to her, blue eyes intense and calculative.

"Because I'm not yours," She muses. "Like you said."

He shrugs.

"Doesn't mean I can't still feel the way I do for you."

Mikasa turns from his stare, unable to meet his eyes. "What do you mean?" She asks.

"Don't play stupid with me. You know exactly what I mean."

Of course she does. It was just them two. Who else did they have?

A pregnant silence falls between them as she tries to think up a response suitable for this.

"Well, none of that matters, regardless." She responds after a moment, shifting closer to him.

Mikasa leans her head on his shoulder, in which he openly welcomes. "No matter what happens—no matter I do or what kind of stupid shit you get into," She makes a point to grab his hand again.

"No matter how many cigarettes you slip past me or how many times I catch you with your gun," She traces the veins surrounding his injured hand, up his arm and then back down.

"No matter what—at the end of the day, I'm still going to get into that damned car with you, and we'll be off to the next warped up city. And that's that."

Levi doesn't utter a word.

Instead, his hands reach up to grasp her face, pulling her forward. She leans into his touch, her forehead brushing against his as both their eyes close in an unusual serenity.

Their noses graze slightly as he tilts her head upward in a single motion.

"_God_, I already know that, Mikasa," He breathes against her lips. "Quit stating the obvious."

* * *

a/n: so they've gotten used to each other by now yay!

i really didn't expect this to become a series but i guess now it is. let me know what you think!


	3. 8 months

(this and the last chapter can be found in my other fic, **reflections**)

a/n: dear god i am so sorry this is late! school started and i currently have 3 projects due next week, so most likely this'll be the last update for awhile :/

anyways... idk where this is. again. i'm in the same boat as them tbh. i'd like to think they're somewhere in south, however.

this takes place approximately 2 months after the last ch.

enjoy!

disclaimer: i do not own snk

* * *

Mikasa grew up not knowing what the stars looked like.

It wasn't because she didn't want to, but because she really _couldn't._

How could she see them, when the city she lived in was alive even in the night? When the air was too polluted for the iridescent bodies to appear, when the only place she's ever known made it impossible to see the true night sky, in all its glory?

She never gave much thought into it, honestly. Her life was too muddled, too fast-paced and too _real_ to think about the abstract things, let alone the stars above.

She realizes now how wrong she was to neglect such an experience as this.

Above her now sits thousands of illuminated lights, crossing universes and galaxies, in one single sky she's never truly seen.

How could she have gone through life without seeing this spectacular? It was unbelievable.

It was another night in which she and Levi were completely broke—as in absolutely no money, besides the spare change found in the back of their vintage (and stolen) truck. With no place to stay, they decided they were going to have to spend the night in the pick up, which wasn't a new thing to them.

They had managed to find a quiet field atop a seemingly flat hill, giving them an outlook of the cities surrounding them—and also, a perfect display of the sky above.

"Wow," She musters after a moment of gazing up, the stars entrancing her in ways she didn't know possible. "It's… it's amazing."

To her left sat another in wonder, his eyes twinkling despite his apathetic expression.

"Yeah," Levi agrees, fascinated. "Not bad."

She turns towards him, pointing up at the obscurity. "Have you ever seen this?" She asks in astonishment.

"I have," He replies, shrugging. "I've seen it in our night drives—usually when you're asleep."

Mikasa nods to this, looking back up to bask in the beautiful lights.

"However," Levi adds. "I've never seen them like this."

She notes the tone of wonder in his voice, an attribute she almost never heard in him.

Unknowingly, she shifts towards the back of the truck bed, wanting to get a better view of the sky before her.

"It's rare to see the stars so spread out like this," Levi explains, his eyes scanning the magical view overhead. "You don't see them like this every night."

Mikasa chuckles. "I don't think you don't see them like this ever." She says, remembering the astronomy class she took all those years ago. "Unless you're in the right spot at the right time."

"Exactly," He suddenly digs into his jean pocket. "So basically, we got lucky tonight."

She nods slowly, brow raised. "And?"

"And," He instinctly pulls out the dreaded pack of cigarettes she loathed.

"We should celebrate."

She scoffs. "Celebrate? That we got to see the stars?"

"Precisely."

"Are you just trying to make an excuse to fucking smoke?"

He shrugs. "Maybe I am. Who fucking cares." He holds his hand out impatiently. "Now give me my lighter."

Mikasa sighs as she plucks out his precious lighter from her own pocket, handing it to him without another word.

There was no point in arguing with him over this… _again._

Levi slips out a cigarette from his notably full pack (how he got them, she has yet to find out), sticking it in his mouth. He takes the lighter in hand, igniting the cig in one swift motion, all while staring at his raven-haired companion, who scrutinizes back with the same intensity. The tip of the cig glows as he sucks in the drug, all while Mikasa is beside him.

She watches as he inhales with hooded eyes, before blowing out, the familiar cloud lightly hitting her face. After he repeats this a few times, he pulls the roll from his mouth, holding it out to her carefully.

As usual, she shakes her head.

She has yet to try, but she would avoid it as much as possible.

But it didn't help when the one person you knew tried to smoke all the time.

Levi simply shrugs before throwing it out the truck. Before he can do another round, she promptly grabs the lighter from his hand.

"That's it for tonight." She declares, slipping it down her pocket before he can protest.

Levi grunts, but says no more.

The familiar silence they've become used to settles in again, a deep abyss that engulfs them as they both stare at the sky again.

After a moment, Levi breaks his gaze to look over at her. "Are you glad?" He asks suddenly.

She furrows her brows. "What?"

"Are you glad you left New York?" It's a random question, thrown out of nowhere, however sincere and laced with curiosity.

_Are you happy you're with me?_

"Of course I am." There is not even a dash of dishonesty in her words.

He scoots closer to her, already nudging her arm. "You don't miss it at all?"

_You're not going to leave me?_

"No." she answers bluntly.

Levi takes this as a decent answer, nodding.

"Why?" She throws the question back at him. "Do you?"

_Would you leave me?_

He replies just as candidly. "_Hell_ no."

And that's that.

There is an unnoticeable breath of relief that exits the both of them, although neither acknowledge this.

Neither of them question the doubts and curiosities that try to creep in. Even when one tries to slip out, it's extinguished before it's a problem.

They ran away to escape. There was no way they were going back.

Mikasa glances up at the stars again, before glimpsing down at the man beside her.

She hesitantly inches closer to him, closer than they already were, before she simply trails her index finger down his chest, hitting every single button on his shirt.

His cobalt eyes drift over to hers, calmly following the path of her finger.

Her hand pulls away, and she places it on her lap, patting her thigh to indicate a message to him. Immediately, Levi shifts over, laying his head down in her lap without a word. His head nestles there comfortably, and they settle in this usual position with ease.

She draws her fingers through his jet-black tresses, ones that match hers remarkably. He exhales a deep breath as she does so, before they both glance up, the mystical lights entrancing them once again.

Yes, they weren't living the dream anymore. Yes, they skipped car to car, lived day to day, spent coin after coin.

(And it didn't help that the money went to his damned cigarettes half the time.)

Yes, they weren't perfect—in fact, they were probably the two most flawed people alive—and they were everything but immaculate.

But to them, this was life.

To them, this delusion was everything or nothing.

_This was their everything._

* * *

a/n: let me know what you think!


	4. 9 months

a/n: i originally said i wouldn't be able to update for awhile, but you all have been so sweet in your reviews asking for an update and i just really wanted to thank you guys! i'm really trying to focus on this story (since i haven't even come up with an ending yet)

as you all can infer, there is no specified setting for this story. just a city in the states. that's all :)

this is more of a filler chapter more than anything… well, most of it hehe

enjoy this chapter *wink wonk*

disclaimer: i do not own snk

* * *

Winter has arrived, the summertime breeze now only imagination. The presence of frost and snowflakes don the cars that pass by, warm air that occasionally fans Mikasa's face as she stands on the sidewalk.

She leans back against the wooden electricity pole, thumbing the lighter in her pocket and blowing out cool air that resembled a certain someone's smoke.

It's too cold to sleep in their truck tonight, but they're more broke than ever and down to about nine dollars, give or take a few. Unless they both want to get hypothermia (and she sure as hell does _not _want to), she and Levi have no choice but to somehow slip into the motel across the street.

She stands a little ways from their parked truck at the gas station, where Levi sits in the driver's seat, examining the crumpled map they had stolen in another gas stop miles away. Mikasa had decided to give herself some fresh air, possibly just to relax from all the minor chaos that's ensued.

Mostly just to get away from _him_.

In the last few weeks, Levi's been more moody than ever (and how believable is that?), some days talking to her normally and other days ignoring her without a word as to why. It's been a recurring theme, and it bugs her more than she wants it to.

Maybe it's just her head. She's so exhausted from living off a couple of bucks a day, but there isn't much they could do.

Unless Levi continued to do what he always did.

Which may or may not mean taking a couple of change here and there.

It's not like they're _robbing _or anything. They had already stolen cars—after all, this isn't even their truck—and Levi usually just manages to catch a few dollars here and there in local stores. He doesn't get everything in the register—they're not that desperate.

But they don't go out empty handed.

Mikasa would have never thought herself to be a concealed criminal, but here she is.

The air around her shifts significantly, and she hears footsteps behind her before something bumps her hip.

"You need to wash these clothes." Levi grumbles into her ear.

She realizes it's his hand that grasps her waist, and she quickly jumps out of his grip, taking a step away.

If it were a month earlier, she would have stayed right where she was.

But things change.

"So do you." She nods towards his outfit, which wasn't very clean itself.

Now that she thinks about it, they haven't been able to wash their clothes in a while…

"There's a laundromat down the road," He completely ignores her previous reaction, and tugs her back towards him. "We can walk there and clean up."

She wants to hide her blush with her scarf, but it honestly smells _filthy_. "I guess."

His hand stays right at her wrist, a far jump back from the fingers that lingered.

Whatever.

They begin to walk farther away from the truck, down the street as casually as possible. They almost look like a typical couple—if dragging your girl around was typical.

A thought dawns on her suddenly, and she quickly rips her wrist from his hold.

"Wait. What… what am I going to wear while we wait?"

Levi turns and stares at her as if he's contemplating whether or not to throw her out on the street. It seems to be the same damn look that keeps happening.

Regardless, it doesn't fail to make her any less nervous.

He keeps his eyes steady for a moment, before turning back around with a sigh. "You wash your stuff first, and you can just borrow some of my clothes to wear for the time being."

Her eyes widen. "But—but don't you want to wash yours too?"

"Yes, idiot," He presses the pedestrian button to walk across the street. "After yours."

She's more puzzled than anything now. "Then what are you going to wear while you wait?"

Again, he gazes at her, even as they walk. Again, the same stare. Again, the same eyes—the ones that seem to utter more than his mouth ever would.

"Don't worry about it."

And then just like that, they're gone again.

* * *

Mikasa realizes that the only time she's ever uncomfortable is whenever Levi is around.

She thought that this feeling would have gone away long ago, what with having ran away with a complete stranger—but it's still there—and it's still growing. There's a push to be around him at all times, and yet every time he's near, she still feels… hollow.

What is it about that short man that makes her like this? Like she's a void, a big endless nothing. She's a word without meaning, a question without answers.

Empty.

Just like the bucket that sits beside her in the turquoise seat. Just like the emptiness of this laundromat. Just like the rest of the dryers and machines that line the walls. All except for the one in front of her, spinning and spinning clothes of different shades and captivating the man in question next to her.

She shifts in her seat, undeniably leaning closer to his arm that drifts over the top of her chair (so close, yet so far). A pulse beats in her ears, his wrist just a pencil tip away from her eardrum.

But Levi has taken it upon himself to ignore it. Ever since she had come out of the restroom clad in only his biggest burgundy t-shirt and a pair of black dress pants (which still fit her figure better than she imagined), his eyes had managed to avoid hers as much as possible.

But what did it matter—it was just clothes.

The dryer dings obnoxiously, making the both of them jump up swiftly. She makes a grab for the basket, but before she can even as much touch it, he's already opened the dryer door and began to pull out every piece of clothing, even her panties, with a blank look.

Her eye twitches in annoyance. "What are you doing?"

"Helping you," He throws one of her three bras at her basket. "So I can help myself."

Why did he always give her those vague answers? _So frustrating._

Mikasa grits her teeth, but doesn't bother to ask him for elaboration.

* * *

They gather her clothes in silence, Mikasa trying to pick up every single bit of intimate clothing before Levi can.

She thinks she might have noticed a smirk forming at the edge of his lips.

How infuriating.

* * *

After finally getting her things together and changing out of his (raw-smelling yet cotton-soft) clothes, she discreetly hands his borrowed fabric over to him, head ducked down and eyes examining the bland white tiles.

"You can wash these now." She lifts his clothes up to his face.

She keeps her arms held out until he finally takes them from her, walking the same way she came from—to the bathroom.

"I'm not washing these."

She turns to look back at him. "Why not?"

Levi doesn't turn around as he walks away. But she does see the slight rise in his shoulders as he moves farther and farther away.

Suddenly, he throws something over his shoulder in her direction, a small object that she catches swiftly, silver clanking in her hands. She flips it over and sees a winged emblem—his lighter.

Oh. She must have left it in the pocket of his pants.

_And yet he still gave it back to me?..._

A few minutes later, he comes back out, wearing her clothes—his clothes—and eyeing the lighter in her hand.

"Why didn't you wash those clothes?" she asks again.

He glances from the lighter to her eyes.

"Because you smell better than me."

* * *

She curses herself for not trying to remember his scent while she had the chance.

* * *

Later that night, as Mikasa had thought, Levi was able to break inside the motel without causing an abruption, and now they were in their own bedroom once again. No freezing, sleepless slumber tonight.

Just for tonight.

She wants to ask how he was able to get inside, but he wouldn't have told her.

Part of her didn't want to know, anyway.

The feeling of bed sheets and pillows feel foreign to her, feeling more and more like a cloud of peace than it used to be.

It's warm for once, from the blanket that covers her to the human heat that evades her space, lying down beside her and as still as a rock.

Levi's still more distant than she likes, more far away than she is from her old home, the city that never sleeps.

Why is he acting like this?

Why is _she_ acting like this?

They've been dancing around each other for months, drifting closer to one another without thinking and then pulling away to nothing, like matter dissolving.

But why?

… Is this what he wants?

Mikasa hears a rustling beside her and the bed bounces just a bit, which signals that Levi is sitting up, apparently still awake. She freezes in her spot, facing away from him, and closes her eyes quickly.

She expects him to get up and leave, maybe to look for a book to read, maybe to search for his lighter in her clothes, maybe to escape from her.

But he doesn't move. Literally. He doesn't even flinch.

Mikasa waits. And waits. And waits.

Honestly, she just wants to sleep.

But she also wants to see what's going on with him.

Finally, she turns around, curiosity getting the best of her.

Their eyes meet like a dart hitting its target, so quick and fierce that she can feel the pinch of the arrow in her heart.

"So you are awake." His arms are crossed, nodding at her lying figure.

She sits up and tugs the pillow to her back, and comfortably adjusts her position to mirror his.

"You are, too."

"I thought you had noticed."

"I did."

"So why did it take you so long to turn around?"

"I…" She holds his eyes. "I don't know."

He licks his lips, and her eyes can't help but to follow the movement.

Why are they both acting like this?

Nine months. They've been together for nine months.

Nine months without sleep, food, home.

Nine months without anything to call their own.

Except… maybe…

Mikasa leans towards him, closer than acquaintances, farther than anything more.

"I want you to do something for me." She starts, pushing herself to keep the redness from invading her cheekbones.

He blinks, leaning a little to her as well. "What?"

_Blank, empty, like her._

Somewhere a long this journey his eyes have started to become a constant image in her brain, whether she be asleep or awake.

She is very, very awake right now.

_Blue eyes, lighter than the sky, full of passion._

She mimics him, running her tongue over the tip of her dried lips.

"Kiss me."

The way his jaw tightens at the sound of her words impresses her greatly.

"Why?" His eyes narrow indefinitely.

_I want to feel the taste of your lips_. "I've never been kissed." It's true, but she wishes it wasn't. "I want to know what it's like before I get any older."

His brows rise as his hand spreads across the backboard. "How could you have never been kissed?"

She shrugs, surprised that he's surprised. "It's not like I'm a boy magnet."

"Are you sure about that?" He lifts his fist to the moonlight to emphasize the little marks and scars that bring back memories of a night of dancing, close calls, bare necks.

"Shut up. You know what I mean."

"Tch."

They're closer than they could ever be now, crossing the line of something that neither could define, because what lines were there anymore?

"Levi," She moves her hand under the sheets, closer to the warmth, closer to the other fingers that feel a mile away. "Will please you kiss me?"

He doesn't move, still as a statue as her pinkie links to his.

And then he does—his hand on the backboard seizes her cheek, burning hotter and hotter, his eyes making the moon seem inferior. There's a push, and his arm is under her waist, curling up where it was that very morning in the winter air. His hand on her cheek inches down her arm to her hand, linking them and lifting it up in the space between their bodies.

She gasps at the contact, roughness meeting less nimble fingers. The uncomfortable feeling dissolves, and something stronger, higher, deeper takes over.

_Will you kiss me?_ Her words ring in the air, echoing off the walls.

"I will." His forehead falls to hers, and suddenly she feels as if she's smoking the very cigarettes she's always avoided.

Their lips meet softly, unlike the roughness that ensues between breaking tension. She doesn't move at first, so astounded that this wasn't a dream nor a nightmare.

His lips guide her, so light and feather-like, so unlike the Levi she knew.

It's so soft, too soft.

Mikasa pulls away, hair falling between her eyes. "Damnit, Levi," She grabs his face instantly. "I said _kiss me_."

"I am."

"You're not."

"Was that not a kiss?"

She shakes her head.

"Was that even anything at all?"

What was a kiss even? How would she know?

She soon finds out as his lips smash into hers, not so hurtful but not so comforting. It's no longer a peck or a brush of the lips, as he pushes closer to her, the bed not big enough for a pair of restless people. She runs her tongue over his lips, brushing past and literally tasting _smoke_.

"Now that's a kiss," He mumbles onto her lips, quickly drawling out the words before closing the space between them once more.

"That's a kiss," She repeats with her eyes closed and her hands diving into his hair.

Mikasa told herself to never smoke with Levi.

But right now, the air engulfs her, the scent draws her in, and all she can see now is exactly what she's dreaded—smoke.

Levi is smoke.

* * *

a/n: in case anybody didn't know: a laundromat is basically a place with washing machines and dryers that the public can use to clean their clothes. it's super cheap, no more than $2 i believe?

also yes, i know, mikasa made a big deal over borrowing his clothes… but she's mikasa for crying out loud. and he's levi.

anyways… YEAAAY FINALLY A KISS.

let me know what you think!


	5. 4 months

a/n: FIRST THING: I AM SO SORRY FOR NOT UPDATING FOR LIKE AN ETERNITY. long story short, school is kicking my ass and i'm sick-like super sick. you'll understand that fact when you read this ch.

**important**: _this is a throwback chapter_, meaning it describes events that happened in t_he first 6 months of their journey_ (after the prequel, before the first ch). i'm sorry i always jump back and forth between months… i really didn't expect this to become a multi-chap fic… but this will fill up a lot of gaps in the story and explain just how levi and mikasa were able to get to where they are now.

enjoy my loves :)

disclaimer: i do not own snk

* * *

Something about the springtime nicked at her veins, twisting them enough to make them hurt, but not enough to make them break. Spring was all about the gentle breeze, the sway of the park flowers, the revival of the once-dead trees that dissipated the deeper you went into the city—a city that seemed like a blind person's vision now.

Spring had a calm aura—the nature reborn, the livelihood revived. It was Mikasa's favorite time of the year. She had always enjoyed the sense of peace that came with spring.

But this spring was definitely different from all the ones before.

"Shit." Something bumped into her foot and just barely grazed her big toe. She glanced down at the cement, eyes landing on an opaque sliver of glass that sat just so.

"A beer bottle shard," Levi emerged from under the hood of the car with a rough black spot on his cheek, "A beer bottle blew up our tire. Fucking great."

Just as he said this, her nose began to itch at the smell of leaky gas and pollenated flowers. A tickling sensation hit her, and a second later, she promptly sneezed—right into his shoulder.

Yes, this spring was very much different.

She did love this season—truly, she did—but she disliked the allergies that crept in with it.

Obviously, so did Levi.

"Fucking _disgusting_," he stepped back so fast she almost fell over, "Bless you. And my damn shirt."

Mikasa glared at him as she wiped her reddened nose. "Don't get your panties in a wad."

"Tch, you're one to talk about clothing," he eyed over her outfit, and his lip twitched, "You definitely look like you're in need of a deep scrub."

"Oh, like you're sparkling clean yourself," she retorted calmly, stepping on the beer bottle chunk and effectively shattering it into tinier pieces. She tried to ignore how nasally her voice sounded, but it couldn't be helped when she got overly annoyed with that damn cravat man.

Yes, they were dirtied to the bone. There was no other way to describe it. And having too-long, disheveled hair was only a testimony to that fact.

Mikasa observed that they definitely needed a haircut, if anything.

"Whatever." Levi huffed, turning away from her to get down to the real problem.

The car.

The car that now has one tire blown out and no other to spare.

As if they had money to replace that. It would only be a waste. And it didn't help that they were in the middle of the most barren part of the country.

Just their luck.

"We're going to have to walk to the next city over"—_no shit_—"and hopefully we'll find another car there. Or a truck," he began to pace in his steps, "A truck would be nice."

Mikasa narrowed her eyes in irritation. "We're going to steal _another_ car?"

If Levi was ever capable of giving the deadliest glare known to mankind, he would have given her one at that very moment. Maybe he was just holding himself back.

"No, of course we're not," he spun the car keys around his index finger and leaned against the passenger door, "We're just going to walk the rest of our way to wherever the fuck we're going. It's not like we have this thing called fatigue or weakness." He clutched the keys. "We can be real hobo's if that's what you really want."

She bit her lip so hard it pulled a drop of blood.

Their eyes meet just as she was ready to yell at him for being such a sarcastic asshole, just as he was ready to finish his hell speech of all-out snarkiness.

But neither of them uttered a word.

It lasted a good moment, just their narrowed eyes of displeasure at the other. How did they even make it this far with each other in tow?

Not even she knew.

His eyes were the only thing that kept her in place. They steadied her in a way that not even gravity could uphold. The sunset darkened his gaze, yet she refused to move a muscle.

Somehow, these staring contests seemed to shut them both up without a thought to why.

Her eyes began to water—probably because they had been outside for too long. She may be immune to his asshole personality, but she wasn't immune to the cold invading her body as she stood there in the pollinated air.

She promptly sneezed again, and the stare finally disconnected.

They stay there for another moment—heads spinning and eyes avoiding—before his foot bent to hit the car door, and his palm reached out towards her slowly.

She stared at his hand, callused and numb, lines criss-crossing in directions that all pointed towards her.

It didn't move in its stretched out position, as if he was asking her to dance with him.

But it's not what he was asking at all.

He beckoned her again, wrapping and unwrapping his hand, tightening his muscle slightly as veins popped up around his wrist.

Everything else was suddenly routine and familiar. She stuck her own hand into her jean pocket, grasping what he wanted—silver and blue wings embodied onto metal, warm and worn, falling from her hold to his. The lighter passed through their hands without a single sound, with only a graze of fingertips against one another.

Not a word is said as he took a cigarette from his pocket and lit it with one sweeping motion, nor when he proceeded to blow smoke into the air.

She noticed that he took it to himself to make sure the smoke didn't hit her face.

This was starting to become a daily thing.

They would bicker, he would light a cigarette, and then they would go back to normal.

And then they would be off again.

This was the routine.

This was their life now.

Smoke, smoke, smoke.

After a few more cig's, they began to walk.

* * *

One thing Mikasa had also noticed in the few months she's known Levi is how he talked to her.

And also how he didn't.

_"We're only going to walk a few miles. Can your feet take it?"_

_"I'll be fine, captain."_

_"Just making sure."_

_"…I don't need any help, if that's what you're wondering."_

_"That's not what I'm trying to imply."_

_"Then what are you trying to say?"_

_"I'm just asking. It doesn't hurt to ask."_

Sometimes he could be a real ass, in that he could pull her apart with one phrase, and then be a gold-hearted jerk, and bind her together with another.

Sometimes all he had to do was look at her and she would know exactly what he was trying to say.

And she didn't know how this happened—but it did.

He probably didn't understand it, either.

But it happened all the time. In the four months she'd known him, this form of communication had been the strongest between them. His eyes flickered between emotions more than his own flow of words could ever affect her, and it just drew her to him.

It's amazing how infuriating he could be one moment, and then be perfectly fine the next.

He was mysterious, possibly sinister.

But he was human. Human enough to understand her even when she couldn't herself. Human enough to talk to her without ever uttering a word. Human enough to read her like a book and still not know the inner depths that lie behind the simple paragraphs and chapters of her world.

He was just like her, in a kind of sick and twisted way.

But she was okay with that.

They strode down the dirt road with little to no trouble—though it did bother her that her combat boots were getting dirtied.

And that her allergies were only getting worse.

One sneeze after another, and Levi finally realized just how sick she might be.

"I'm going to get you some pills at the pharmacy when we get there." He didn't look at her as he spoke, keeping his eyes on the dim city lights in view.

Her eyes widened. "But—we don't—do we even have the money?"

He didn't answer.

"Levi," she sighed. "I'll be fine—"

"I'm going to get you some."

"But—"

He shushed her by lighting another cigarette and sticking it between his teeth. The fire radiated in the night sky.

"Just let me do it." He mumbled incoherently as the cig blocked his speech.

The cigarette burned in the starlight, smoke took over the sky temporarily, and she felt as if the air was clogging her lungs with every deep breath.

She frowned. "But how?"

A chuckle.

"Coercion."

* * *

Her feet burned as they arrived at the city, the moon sitting above them with all the incandescence in the world. Maybe if she wasn't sneezing a storm, she would have been strong enough to assist him.

But Levi ordered her to sit down at the first bench they passed by, just to "let her rest for a bit."

"Stay here. Wait for me."

"But why? Don't you need help?"

"I'll be fine. Just wait. Don't move until you see me."

He suddenly kneeled in front of her—did Levi ever kneel?—and grabbed her palms with a slight tinge of roughness. He pried them open with a sense of urgency—only to drop his only prized possession back into her hold.

That damn lighter…

Mikasa looked up with a nonplussed expression, ready to ask him why he still felt the need to keep doing this—

Except he was already gone.

Mikasa sat there for almost two hours, fiddling with her scarf and unthreading a stray piece. She noticed black splotches in between the fabric, and vowed to clean it thoroughly when she got the chance.

She tossed the lighter lightly between her fingers, rough metal bouncing off her icebox skin. It was still warm in her hands, shining against the street light beside her bench.

She vaguely wondered just how much action she was missing.

But maybe there was nothing going on—nobody was yelling. There was no mishap, no siren, no cry of agony.

It was amazing how stealthy Levi could be when he wanted to. It left her thinking about his past—and just how he's able to work like this.

Another hour passed, and just when she got tired of sneezing into air and watching the street light flicker, a loud and scattered crash a block over released her from her trance.

She stood up quickly, about to run to the other side and completely neglect Levi's orders, when suddenly a flurry of loud footsteps encompassed the entire city.

It was as if the city had risen on its own, alive and upbeat—even the lights brightened.

It reminded her of a place she used to call home…

_No. Not the time to think about that right now._

The darkness began to clear significantly, and she finally got the chance to see them—men, stalking through the sidewalks, enraged looks painted across each and every face.

_What the hell did he do now?_

The first thing she did is bolt down the street—away from the men, away from the bench, away from him—and turned down a miniscule side road. The perfect spot for her to get into more trouble.

She could defend herself, if need be. That much was evident.

But at the moment, she was sickly and weak, and this was not the time to be sitting on a bench while angry men roamed the streets.

_Where the hell is Levi?_

That stupid man probably tried to steal something again, and probably got caught doing it. Maybe he was trying to get the medicine. Maybe he was taking a car.

Mikasa made sure she was in the dark, away from the moonlight that threatened to expose her. She dropped the lighter into her pocket, and kept her fists clenched as she stared out into the open road.

_One, two, three, four—_

Several men trudged by, mutterings heard throughout.

_ Five, six, seven, eight—_

A hand wrapped around her mouth before she could continue her counting.

She immediately shrieked into the owner's palm, about to elbow the crotch of whoever the fuck had her and _get away_, when the assaulter's other hand slipped down her pocket.

"I told you not to move, shitty brat."

She froze in her movements, all nerves stopped from going into overdrive, as he slowly pulled out the lighter.

Mikasa finally inhaled burnt smoke into her lungs, and almost choked.

Of course it would be him to surprise her in a dark alley. Of course.

His grip on her only tightened as she visibly relaxed. "No sound." He stuffed the lighter back in her pocket, and grazed his fingers a long her hip. "Face me."

Levi's hand slipped away from her lips, and she turned in his grip to him. The moon fell beneath the clouds, and darkness enveloped the city for them—all except for his eyes that still maintained hers. Their faces just barely touched, closer than they had ever been in the time she had known him.

Why was he so close?...

Something significantly solid hit her hipbone—and no, it wasn't not _that_.

It felt foreign, yet not…

A _clink-clank_ against his belt revealed to her just what it was.

_He got… a gun?_

_Where the hell did he get a damn gun?_

The men meander by the opening, and it itched her nose again. _Oh, shit._

This was just too much.

Just before she could let out another sneeze, his fingers flew to her nose and squeezed it, stopping her from revealing their position. She made an equally embarrassing noise as she flat-out sneezed into his hand.

Levi looked as if he wanted to throw up.

She sniffed as he let go, and he wiped his fingers with a grimace. "You owe me."

Mikasa nodded without a word.

"Meds are in the car." He whispered into her ear, just as another man passed by. "So is our stuff."

She stifled another sniff. "Then what are we waiting for?" she manically whispered back.

Levi shook his head, and his hair brushed against hers. Why were they still so close?...

"One thing first," he moved closer to her, but how much closer could he get—

"Take off your scarf."

She paused. "Why?"

His hand went for the fabric before she could, already unwinding it to reveal her barren neck. "So they don't have anything to identify you by."

Ah, red scarf. That was pretty obvious.

She let him peel apart the covers of her neck, watching as his eyes trailed over her skin—and bumps raised across porcelain, leaving her cold and breathless.

He did it so effortlessly, untangling the scarf with extreme care, as if she would do harm if he messed this up. It startled her more than it annoyed her—and she couldn't seem to figure out why.

Her hands flew up to his neck out of instinct—and yet he made a beeline for her wrists.

"And what are you doing?" he asked, almost painfully.

_Effortless. _His hands squeezed her wrists.

"My scarf," she peeled his hands from hers, "Your cravat."

After a moment, he surprisingly obliged, tearing the scarf from her skin just as she began to unwrap his cravat.

She didn't notice until halfway through that his face was on her neck, breathing into her pulse that throbbed at the thought. She took off his accessory tantalizingly slower than he did hers, and she didn't realize how ragged his breathing became until she had stuffed the cravat into the same pocket that held his lighter.

They remained there, breathing into each other, necks naked and open to the spring air.

She wondered how close was too close.

But that thought flew to the back of her mind when Levi finally collected himself: "Let's go now."

They still didn't move after that. She refused to until he did, and yet he stayed fixed in his spot. The air was growing so thin, and it left her congested—literally.

Slowly, her hand trailed across his face, moving strands of raven hair from her neck to rest across his forehead. His jaw clenched—but for the first time, he didn't stop her.

"Let's go now." She repeated his words, trying to grasp reality with what little was left in her head.

Suddenly, Levi lifted his head from her neck, all traces of unevenness gone. His blank demeanor had overtaken again, leaving what had just transpired in the past.

But he still grabbed her wrist tightly, and gazed at her with all the words he needed to say blotted out across his eyes.

For some reason, she suddenly didn't know what he was trying to evoke. But she nodded anyway.

And then they were off, running in the opposite direction of where she had entered.

His hand remained at her wrist, lightning trickling at their fingertips.

* * *

They ran around blocks and different signs, passed by blurbs and lights without a care in the world. The _clink-clank_ sound was inevitable, and it rang through her ears.

She wanted to ask how he got a damn gun, but decided against it—for fear of somebody hearing her.

Their footsteps were already thundering.

They ran and ran—_keep moving, don't stop_—until he halted just a few feet away from the local gas station.

The station lights flickered repeatedly, just like the street light at her bench. They revealed just one man standing outside, filling his tank.

She took this break to finally ask.

"Why are there angry men strolling around the city?" she gave him an annoyed look, while he glares back.

"Why does it matter? We're about to leave this damned town anyway." He eyed the old man by the gas tank.

He was standing beside an outdated truck.

"Okay, better question," she stepped towards him with a frown, and promptly grabbed the weapon tucked into his belt. "How did you get _this_?"

He seized her arms instantly, pushing her back. "It doesn't matter."

"It does to me!" she snarled. She wanted nothing more than to punch him in the face. Fuck his shitty vague answers. "Is _this_ the reason people are prowling around this town right now?"

"No more damn questions." He ordered, and without further ado, he dragged her with him to the station across the street.

The old man saw them coming, and confusedly stared at them with a quirked eyebrow.

"My, my," he tilted his head with a forced smile. "What's a couple like y'all doing here in the middle of the night?"

As they approached the man, Mikasa realized just what they were going to do.

"Sir, if I may ask," Levi used his suave, business-man voice, getting straight to the point, "Do you live near this place?"

The confused man looked at him for a second, and their fast-coming approach, and he nodded slowly. "Why, yes, just about a street away. 'Was just filling the old boy up just because."

"Good," Levi pursed his lips, "You can walk home, then."

The old man froze. "Excuse me?"

Mikasa sneezed just as Levi let go of her. His hand was already shoving her behind him just as he pulled out the gun and pointed it towards the man.

All is silent as he held the trigger.

"I'd advise you go on your way now, sir," Levi's words were bitter and lustrous, just like the object stuck in her pocket.

Mikasa grabbed his shoulder, squeezing it firmly. "Stop it." She urged into his ear.

He didn't budge.

"Give me the keys." Levi stuck his palm out, like he did earlier.

_Such elegance._

"I don't mean no harm, boy, but I don't feel comfortable—"

He steadied the gun on the man, _click._

"Hand over the keys." Again.

The old man started to look completely lost, just like her.

"_Keys_." His voice was becoming harsher.

The man tossed the keys roughly, yet Levi caught it with his finger on the trigger.

He then turned towards her and rasped into her ear, "Get in the car."

"But—"

"Get in."

Mikasa scrambled for the passenger door, climbing into the truck with a sniffle and a jolt in her veins. The man outside looked terrified, just as Levi came closer to the car. The gun stayed pointed at the man even as he got inside and started the ignition.

"Young man," the man was desperate and hopeless all at once, "I mean no harm—"

"Neither do I." Levi kept the gun at his forehead. "We just need a car."

She wondered how the man perceived them—two raggedy young adults with greasy hair down their backs, prowling into his car, with no way to stop them.

Such a tragedy.

Before the man could call for help or do anything, Levi pressed on the accelerator and they sped away, but not before Mikasa saw the frightened look on the man's face.

* * *

How was it that easy?

How did they get the car without a fight, without a fuss, without even as much as a peep from anybody else but the owner?

Was it luck?

Was it chance?

… What the fuck?

"You said my pills were in the car," she refused to look at him, and only listened to the rustling as they drove down the dark road.

He tossed a sack on her lap, and she dug through it to find medicine, and a bottle of water.

"I stashed it in here while he was inside the gas station," Levi explained. "The windows were rolled down. Wasn't that hard to sneak all our stuff in."

Mikasa downed the pills in one gulp, and clenched her fist.

"What would you have done if he fought back, huh?" she finally got to let out her frustration. Anger flowed through her, had been flowing through her, and it only released itself now. "What would you have done if he had called for help, or had a gun himself?"

"Can't we just forget about it?" he countered with a grumble.

She slammed her fist onto the dashboard. "No," she breathed. "We're talking about this. Now."

"Why the fuck do you care about it so much?" his façade broke, too. "It's in the past. Forget about it already."

"No, because you could have hurt him! He was an innocent man," her eyes filled with bewilderment, "And you had a gun pointed to his face!"

"Not everything is all rainbows and unicorns, Mikasa."

"Don't act like you had to do that. It was unnecessary."

"Boo-fucking hoo."

"Would you have killed him if it came down to it?" she pushed her hair back. "Would you have pulled the trigger?"

Something cracked—a little, tiny nip out of her gut, her heart, or maybe his. Something broke.

A beat.

Levi didn't even stutter. "Yes," he wiped foreign sweat from his forehead, his chest pounding. "I would have done exactly that."

She snapped.

"Why?" Her voice was caught between a scream and a whisper.

"Because that's how _this_ works," he lashed out, "Alright?"

"No, it's _not_ alright."

"Shut the fuck up."

"Why did you even get that gun anyway?" The question was repeated, brought back to life.

"I said, shut up. Your voice is annoying the hell out of me."

"No, you dwarf-sized asshole! Why can't you just _talk to me_ for once, instead of being so damn insensitive and emotionless all the time?"

Suddenly, he slammed on the brakes, and the truck jetted down the road at an inhumane angle. They stopped in the middle of the street, the car blocking both sides of the two-way road. Before she could recover from the sudden jolt, he pulled the keys from the ignition with a pop and glared at her with fire in his eyes.

"Get. Out."

He said the words with indefinite clarity, gritting his teeth and grabbing the steering wheel with such vigor that it almost intimidated her.

Almost.

She didn't move at all, and he repeated it again.

"Get out of the damn car." He unlocked the door with ferocity, clinging onto the seat as if he would attack her if he didn't.

Mikasa jumped out of the truck with a blank stare, ripping her presence from his with one swift motion. She slammed the door without a thought, adrenaline running through her, not even caring that this was happening.

Fine. Let him kick her out. She could deal with this herself. She was strong enough to handle this, to handle that damn midget.

The night was fading away, dawn painting the sky into a deep purple air.

And her only companion was abandoning her in the dust.

The car revved up again, and he didn't even glance at her as he drove away.

Not even a goodbye.

* * *

She sat on her bum for an hour—and in that time, she finally realized that he left her.

Literally and truly left her. Completely ditched her in the middle of nowhere. As if it was nothing.

She was completely and utterly alone.

There were no tears that leaked out. This had happened to her before. Why should she break down now?

Wasn't this bound to happen anyway?

They could never truly get a long. They were both so stubborn, and he was so rude—it was inevitable.

And yet, it still burned inside her, still pained her spine and her feet, still chilled her body despite the calming weather.

Alone.

He left her.

_…So what do I do now?_

She shuffled through her belongings, hoping to find something, anything that could help her—and as if that would happen.

A hairpin, a dead cellphone, a ratty shirt—

She picked through her pockets.

…A lighter.

She paused.

_He never took his lighter back._

* * *

Mikasa waited another hour until he came driving back.

Neither of them said anything as she climbed back inside once again. His eyes were pressed forward, pale hands gripping the wheel.

She didn't look at him either.

"I was down the road, watching you," he tapped the steering wheel unconsciously, "I never really drove away."

She rolled her eyes, hiding a tiny smile. "What a creep."

Levi shook his head. "You had my lighter. I didn't want you to get rid of it."

She sighed, inwardly wanting to taunt him. "Sure, that's exactly why you bothered to stay."

"I didn't want anything to happen to you—it." He rubbed the back of his head awkwardly, and added, "… You piece of shit."

Mikasa chuckled and sneezed all at once, and it provoked Levi's mouth to twitch into a tiny smile—only for a moment.

And then, she turned to look at him for the first time with nothing more than that very lighter in hand.

She made a grab for his hand, drifting across the seat to lace her fingers through his, guiding them to her side. She clasped the lighter in his palm, metal hitting two different heats.

"Take it back." She breathed carefully, making sure her voice didn't waver. "It's yours. Not mine."

But he didn't listen, pushing it back to her. "I don't want to keep it," he let go of her hand, "I gave it to you for a reason."

She looked at him, yearning for answers to all the questions he refused to acknowledge.

Why?

"Just keep it." _Keep me._

_Please don't leave me again_ were the words unsaid.

* * *

She felt a little bit better. Her nose was no longer stuffed, her face wasn't red, and she wasn't constantly sneezing in his face—the medicine must be doing its job.

Both of them had yet to talk about the night before.

Maybe that was what caused him to finally speak up.

"I got it for protection, you know." He told her, low voice draping over her thoughts with only a few simple words.

"What?"

He pulled out the gun from his belt again, holding it up as his eyes looked to the road.

"The gun," he mused, "I got it to protect us." _To protect you._

Mikasa stared at the weapon at hand, marveling over the danger that lied behind it.

"I see."

He stuffed it out of view without another word, erasing it from their eyes and minds.

As they passed through stop signs and street lights, his hand moved closer to hers, just as hers drifted closer to his.

They met halfway, pinkie hitting thumb softly, and it was the closest thing the both of them could do to say _I'm sorry_.

And that was enough.

The lighter in her pocket stuck to her skin as if it was her own.

* * *

a/n: okay i know levi is a major asshole in this ch, but let's face the reality: levi is not a genuinely nice person all the time. neither is mikasa (who i really hope wasn't too ooc in this ch). i really just wanted to describe the dynamic between them as runaways-as in, they don't have anybody else. only each other.

and i also wanted to emphasize the symbolism of levi's lighter as well... anybody want to take a guess at what it is? :)

in other words, my writing has gotten real rusty and i hope to get back into my groove as the days come. i haven't given up on this story yet!

let me know what you think!


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